


Crosswind

by Cinderstrato



Series: Midlife Crisis Halbarry [3]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Jewish Character, Character Study, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Dynamics, Gen, Guilt, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Supportive Partnerships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinderstrato/pseuds/Cinderstrato
Summary: Hal had collected plenty of regrets over the years. What was the weight of one more?
Relationships: Barry Allen/Hal Jordan, Hal Jordan & Jack Jordan, Hal Jordan & Jim Jordan, Jack Jordan/Janice Jordan
Series: Midlife Crisis Halbarry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571473
Comments: 11
Kudos: 76





	Crosswind

* * *

******CROSSWIND**

* * *

* * *

There was Barry's favorite pair of pinstripe pajamas, laid out neatly over the chair. There, face-down on the dresser, was the detective novel that Barry had been reading the last two evenings. There was Barry’s alarm clock, already set for a late morning shift, beside a full glass of water on the bedside table. ****

But no Barry. ****

Hal toweled off his hair, frowning at the empty bed. ****

Knowing Barry’s tendency toward lateness, he’d spent an extra forty minutes on the phone catching up with Tom, who’d just come back from an ulcer-inducing trip to Disneyland with his granddaughter. After wrapping up their conversation, Hal had done some exercises and taken a long and leisurely shower, but even with all that generous padding, here he stood, alone in their room. ****

He knew exactly where Barry was. ****

Shrugging on Barry’s old terrycloth bathrobe, he went downstairs to the kitchen, where – _surprise, surprise_ – the man in question was still working, nose to the grindstone at ten o’clock on a Friday night. ****

Hal leaned casually against the doorjamb as Barry plowed his way through a stack of papers. Whatever he was doing, he wasn’t getting the results he wanted -- every few minutes, he’d sigh or mumble to himself or scratch out a few notes, the pencil blurring as he tapped it absently against his lower lip. He was focused enough that he clearly wasn’t going to notice that he was no longer alone with his files and calculations without intervention. ****

Hal felt a surge of affection underpinned with annoyance. Barry had assured him that he would come up to bed soon -- by ‘soon’, he’d evidently meant ‘two hours’. It wasn’t that he begrudged Barry his work ethic; it was just kind of insulting that the man would rather sit in their drafty kitchen reading lab results than roll around under the sheets with Hal, who happened to be going commando under the robe. ****

“Hey, you.” ****

Barry’s head jerked up. He brightened when he caught sight of Hal, only to look abashed a second later. “Oh, Hal, I’m sorry. I lost track of time.” ****

“No biggie. You can make it up to me by coming upstairs,” Hal said smoothly. ****

There was an apologetic twist to Barry’s mouth. “Maybe in another half-hour? I had a thought about the Gilkerson case, and I knew had to take a look before I forgot. You have to strike the iron while it’s hot.” ****

“I get it, but I can’t sleep without you,” he cajoled, pitching his voice low and sugar-sweet. He made an effort not to look smug when Barry’s distracted smile warmed into something sappier. ****

“I guess these can sit until tomorrow.” ****

Hal took his victory in good grace, tidying up while Barry gathered his files and put them carefully back into the locked drawer in the pantry where he kept all his sensitive documents. Barry rejoined him when he was done, zipping the dried dishes into the cupboards in a blink before leaning in for a smooch. Hal kissed him, slipping him a hint of tongue to make sure he got the idea. Barry was smart as hell, but all but the most obvious come-ons tended to fly over his head. It was best not to leave it to chance. ****

“That’s my bathrobe,” Barry murmured. ****

“Yup.” ****

“You’re not wearing anything under it, are you?” ****

“Nope.” ****

Barry’s soft chuckle was music to his ears, and Hal reached up to rub his shoulders. Jesus H., they were like rocks, they were so tense. “You need a break, Bar,” he declared. “Go hop in the shower, you’ll feel better. I’ll pop your back after.” ****

“I thought you were tired of waiting.” ****

Hal gave him his best heated look. He wasn’t a sleek spring chicken anymore, but it still got the job done. “I can wait a little longer. You always make it worth my while.” ****

While Barry dutifully showered, Hal laid out a soft towel on the bed and found the bottle of stupidly expensive hoity-toity massage oil that he’d stolen on a drunken impulse from one of Ollie’s palatial guest bathrooms. Barry loved the smell of it, but Hal only pulled it out for special occasions -- even if he could afford another, it was all but impossible to find; it was hand-squeezed by elderly artisan monks from Tibet and only sold during the third full moon of the year, or whatever, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell Barry where he’d gotten it from in the first place. ****

In the bathroom, the shower shut off, a roil of steam billowing out the door. He could hear Barry moving around, humming to himself. Hal checked the sheets and pillows for any stray Itties and then shrugged out of the bathrobe as Barry came out in his briefs, toweling off his hair. ****

Hal knelt down and waited. This time, he didn’t have to wait long. He felt the intent laser-focus of Barry’s eyes on him as he folded his wet towel over the back of a chair and came to join Hal on the bed. ****

Years ago, he’d learned how to give passable massages from Carol. One of her exes had been a professional masseuse, and because Carol’s lessons tended to end in athletic sex, Hal had been an attentive student. Now he employed every trick he’d been taught, warming the lotion between his hands before smoothing it over Barry’s shoulder blades, gradually working his way down with firm, sure strokes of his palms and periodic kneading with the flat of his knuckles. Barry tensed under his hands as he worked out the harder knots, but soon he was limp and relaxed, moaning when Hal hit a tender spot. ****

It was a nice way to spend an evening. He would have been happy to do it all night, enjoying the feeling of warm skin and lean muscle under his fingers, but Barry obviously had different ideas. ****

“You want me to do the front too?” Hal asked, trying not to grin at the telltale way Barry’s hips were shifting against the mattress. ****

In a split-second, Barry had him pinned. Hal laughed as they tussled -- the bedroom was about the only place where he got to spar with Barry; there wasn’t much point in training hand-to-hand with someone who could pick you up and dump you in the Atlantic Ocean before you could catch your breath. Distraction was really the only way to win with a speedster, so Hal wriggled out of Barry’s half-nelson and went straight for his underwear. ****

Barry ceded with a groan, combing his hands through Hal’s hair while Hal kissed his way down his chest, fingers toying suggestively with the elastic band of the briefs. Barry was so patient, even here, no matter how excited he was or how badly he wanted to come. It was impressive, that restraint, and especially convenient when Hal wanted to take his time. ****

He ran his hands over Barry’s chest appreciatively, paying special attention to the pattern of his Lichtenberg scar; he never got tired of looking at the pink lines that branched out like the limbs of a tree, radiating from the center of Barry’s breastbone to his armpits. Barry hadn’t liked him touching them, not at first, but now he didn’t mind. When he sucked an impulsive hickey into the soft space between Barry’s ribs, his hands slid back up, pinching teasingly at two flat pink nipples. It didn’t do much for Barry, sensation-wise, not like it did for Hal, but it always made his cheeks flush, and if Hal lingered long enough, he’d start to wriggle. ****

He lost a pleasant few minutes kissing the dips and valleys of Barry’s abs and couldn’t resist rubbing his face against the softness just above his hips. He liked that extra bit of plushness on Barry’s body; it made him look solid and comfortable, like someone who had finally allowed himself to indulge a little. Hal was a big fan of indulging himself, so it was only fair that Barry should too. ****

Finally, he stroked the long, lean curves of Barry’s thighs and calves, roped with muscle and covered with fine blond hair -- God, Barry had an absolutely _killer_ pair of legs -- before crawling back up for a kiss. Barry’s hands slid out of his hair to grab his shoulders. ****

Hal licked the salty bend of his neck, finally tugging off his briefs with one hand. “Hypothetically, how do you feel about me sitting on your dick?” ****

Barry’s breath stuttered against his ear. “How hypothetical, exactly?” ****

“Not very. I took some extra time in the shower.” Hal shifted down again and mouthed along the bare curve of Barry’s hip. They didn’t do this all that often, preferring the less-messy simplicity of hands and mouths, but Hal had been thinking about it all day, and he was prepped and determined to get what he wanted. He’d been carrying an edge of tension lately, a restless energy, and the only thing that could get rid of it was a either a good fight or a good fuck, and he wasn’t in the mood to start a brawl at a space port. “I used the good lube. Grab a condom.” ****

Barry kissed him hard and then reached over for the box in the bedside drawer. Hal waited until he had it in hand before dipping down to swallow Barry’s cock. He heard Barry swear and fumble the condoms, a few strips falling to the floor, and the only reason he didn’t laugh was because his mouth was otherwise occupied. ****

He worked his tongue languidly over Barry’s dick, his own excitement spurred on by the way Barry’s thighs quivered and his breathing grew rougher. In general, Hal was pretty indifferent to giving blowjobs, but he didn’t mind with Barry -- Barry was never forceful or overeager like some of the men he’d slept with. He kept going until he felt Barry tug urgently at his hair, and he pulled off with a wet _pop_. ****

He licked his lips as he caught his breath. “Gonna come?” ****

“Not helping,” Barry said tightly. ****

Hal grinned, but he gave him a minute, rearranging the pillows and the towel and stretching to work out the kink in his back. Barry groped around the sheets and emerged with one of the condoms, and Hal waited until he’d rolled it on and added another coat of lube before he threw a leg over and straddled him.

Barry was awful at talking dirty, but nothing got him hot faster than Hal running his mouth. He let himself babble whatever nonsense came to mind, interspersing wet kisses with compliments and sweet nothings and blunt observations about Barry’s finer attributes. Pretty soon Barry was _squirming_ , worked up again for real. Some well-placed crudeness always got the man’s motor cranked. ****

“Lord, don’t tease, Hal, please.” ****

“Me, a tease? Never.” He planted his hands on Barry’s chest, pushing his hips back and reaching behind himself to line everything up. “Buckle up, buster -- I’m taking you for a test run.” ****

Barry snorted, his blue eyes all crinkled up and delighted, and Hal just had to stop and kiss him again. ****

With all the careful prep he’d done in the shower beforehand, it didn’t take much work to get Tab A into Slot B. Barry had a bad habit of worrying about hurting him (Hal assuring him that he’d been to the emergency room for far more embarrassing things hadn’t seemed to put his mind at ease) so he was usually overly cautious at this stage anyway. Once they were there, though, finding their rhythm was effortless. Barry’s clever hands were everywhere, touching and stroking, and the way he looked at Hal -- riveted, with total focus and adoration -- never got old. They took it slow, then faster, then slower again. When he felt Barry start to push harder up into his thrusts and he was beginning to ache for release too, he knew it was time to steer them toward the finish line. ****

As nice as the view was, the angle just wasn’t going to be enough for him to come. Hal reluctantly shifted off Barry’s lap, stretching out onto his back and pulling the other man between his legs. Though it galled him to admit it, he wasn’t as limber as he’d been twenty years ago. He couldn’t cross his ankles at the small of Barry’s back without getting a stitch in his side, but he made it work, hooking his thighs over trim hips as Barry pushed back in. God in heaven, he had the _best_ cock, not too long and thick in all the right places. ****

“Fuck me,” Hal demanded, cutting himself off with a hiss as the meat of his shoulder stung with a sharp love bite. Barry’s hips pumped with renewed enthusiasm, hard enough to make Hal’s thighs shake. “God! Fuck me, Bar.” ****

Barry whimpered, grinding his sweaty forehead into Hal’s neck. His thrusts stuttered, and then the vibrations started. ****

Hal threw his head back with a shout. The sensation was intense, riding the line of too much; it was challenging for Barry to focus enough to get a consistent vibration going when he was distracted by his own pleasure, so the movement came in jerky, sporadic bursts. Hal worked with it, wiggling and pushing until he had Barry where he wanted him. ****

“There,” Hal gasped. Barry immediately stopped his pumping to focus on deep, thrumming vibrations that pulsed just right against Hal’s sweet spot. “Right there, just like that! Oh, _goddamn_ , that’s _good_."

Barry gritted his teeth, his rhythm faltering. He struggled to keep it together when he knew that Hal was on the edge, and Hal gave him a grateful open-mouthed kiss when he picked the pace back up. He braced his knees on the mattress, and one of his hands dropped down to fist Hal’s cock. ****

_“Oh fuck!_ ” ****

Barry kept it up, working him through the pleasure. Hal dug his head against the pillow, bouncing his hips as the shivering waves of his orgasm finally petered off, leaving him worn out and so relaxed he felt almost boneless. Barry was still hard inside him. He clenched down, laughing breathlessly when Barry let out a pleading, aggrieved noise. He was clearly desperate to come but determined to be polite. ****

“C’mon, baby,” Hal purred, gliding his hands down Barry’s sweat-slick back to cup that perfect ass, urging him to move. “S’okay. Want you to come in me.” ****

Barry kissed him so hard their teeth clacked and resumed his eager thrusting. Now that Hal was ready to roll over and sleep, having something up his ass felt about as enjoyable as a prostate exam. Still, watching Barry’s gorgeous face as he came was a good reward for his trouble. Hal gripped him close while Barry cried out and shuddered on top of him. ****

They stayed tangled together, panting, until Hal’s discomfort became too pressing to ignore. Barry pulled out, stroking Hal’s hip apologetically. There was a rush of air, and Barry disposed of the condom and cleaned them both up with a damp washcloth in an instant. Superspeed definitely had its advantages in the bedroom. ****

Hal was already half-asleep, but thankfully Barry seemed to be on the same page. He slipped back under the covers and into Hal’s arms, and for a few blissful minutes they traded lazy kisses while the sweat dried and their breathing leveled out. ****

“Mmm, that was good as hell. You enjoy yourself?” ****

“I always do,” Barry said. He sounded perfectly sincere, but there was an odd expression on his face -- he was looking at Hal the same way he’d been looking at his files downstairs, like if he searched long enough, he’d find all the answers to his puzzle. Hal couldn’t help but shift under that steady stare. ****

“What?” he asked. “You already up for Round 2? You’ll have to give me time for a nap, speedy. Or at least a few minutes to recover.” ****

“You’ve been very interested in sex lately. You don’t usually get aroused this frequently anymore, strictly speaking.” ****

Hal flopped back down on his back with a heavy exhale. “Um. That kind of came out of left field, so give me a sec to catch up with you. Wait, have you been keeping track of how many times we have sex? Please tell me you have spreadsheets.” ****

“I’ll leave it up to your imagination,” Barry said dryly. “I’m not complaining, but this is a little anomalous for you. I just wondered if there was a reason why.” ****

“Christ on a cracker, does everything have to have some deep psychological meaning? Can’t a guy just want to get laid?” ****

Barry’s eyebrows rose, and Hal regretted his flippancy. “Sorry, I didn’t --- Look, I don’t want to fight.” ****

“No one’s fighting, Hal.” ****

Hal rubbed his face, staring up at the ceiling as that creeping tension built back inside his body, slithering up his spine. It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water all over the bed, the mood had turned so fast. So much for the afterglow. “Sure.” ****

There was a torturous spell of silence. He could feel Barry watching him, evaluating. ****

“You know,” Barry said slowly, “there's something about you that used to confuse me. You tend to assume that any question about your well-being has an ulterior motive – that when someone asks you how you are or if something’s wrong, they’re trying to root out some. . . weakness, or some mistake on your part.” ****

“Sorry,” Hal muttered. ****

“I don’t need you to apologize. What I need you to do is remember that I’m not trying to trick you. Whoever taught you to be so defensive, whoever sprang those traps on you – I’m not them. When I ask, it’s because I care about you, not because I’m waiting for a chance to put you down.” ****

“You’ve been avoiding me.” ****

He felt Barry stir next to him, and then his hand was gripping Hal’s wrist. “I’ve been giving you space. I thought that’s what you needed. It’s what I need when I’m grieving.” ****

 _I’m not grieving_ , Hal wanted to say. What was there to mourn? Jack had all but cut him out of his life decades ago. They’d hardly said two civil words to each other since their mother died. The only connection the two of them had to each other was Jim. ****

He could practically hear the cogs turning in Barry’s head as he chose words that wouldn’t ruffle any feathers. Hal hated it. He hated when people tiptoed around him. “I wondered if maybe you were feeling . . . badly about how sudden it was,” Barry ventured. “It’s perfectly natural to have some regrets when you don’t have the opportunity to reconcile with someone.” ****

Hal dropped his head to let his cheek rest against sweaty blond fuzz. Barry had the most forgiving heart of anyone he’d ever known, and he wouldn’t be able to understand. It was impossible to repair a relationship when there was no relationship left to repair. ****

“I would hate for you to be dwelling on things that you can’t change,” Barry told him, when the silence between them had spun out too long. “It’s difficult, not being able to say goodbye.” ****

There wasn’t much point in airing dirty laundry -- God knew that the Jordan family had a crapload of it -- but this was Barry. They didn’t have many secrets from each other. “Man, I get where you’re coming from, I do. I know it was like that for you with your mom, but it wouldn’t have mattered with us.” He heard Barry start to protest and gently cut him off. “He wouldn’t have given a hoot if I begged on my knees or held hands with him and sang ‘Kumbaya’. He’s -- he was my brother. But he said things. . . . he said some _vile_ shit to me. It messed me up. It sent me places that I shouldn’t have gone. ****

“I blamed myself for so many years.” He could still hear Jack’s voice in that hospital hallway, telling him that he was too late, that he’d finally succeeded in destroying their family completely. “It was cancer. I didn’t have a damn thing to do with it. None of us did. I don't know what he was thinking.” ****

“He felt helpless and wanted someone to blame,” Barry offered. “You were the nearest target.” ****

He knew that Barry didn’t mean to be pedantic, and admittedly Hal wasn’t the most perceptive guy in the universe, but it had been a rhetorical question; Hal knew enough about human nature to add things up. Funnily enough, that was almost word-for-word what Dinah had told him, that night he’d gotten sloshed with Ollie and told them the whole ugly story. He’d still been so hurt by it back then, holding the hope that things might be patched up someday. He’d been terribly young. “I’m not saying it was Jack’s fault, how I turned out. I made my own bad choices. But when I needed help, he . . . . Well, it doesn’t matter, does it? He wanted a scapegoat and I was there. We didn’t get along as kids either. Like oil and water, Dad used to say.” ****

Barry gave him a knowing look. “You were your dad’s favorite.” ****

That wasn’t the entire picture, but it wasn’t totally inaccurate either. Martin had been a good father to all of them, involved in a way that his own dad hadn’t been, but he and Hal had a special bond. Jim had been too small to go to the airfields, and Jack hadn’t been interested, preferring his books and Little League games. But Hal – Hal had been hooked from the moment he was old enough to play pretend, running all over the house with his toy planes and gleefully mimicking the engine noises. He’d worshipped his dad, and of course he’d gotten more attention because of it. And maybe Jack had felt left out, his own grief pushed aside by Hal’s persistent acting out that had rolled right into full-blown, punk-ass teenage rebellion. He knew he’d been a handful, and so much of their mom’s time and effort had been expended in trying to keep Hal from self-destructing. It was no wonder that Jack had gotten sick of it -– sick of him. ****

But still. _Still._ ****

Barry propped his head on his folded arms, his gaze piercing. “You’ve been so quiet.” ****

“Our next-door neighbors would disagree,” Hal laughed. ****

Disappointingly, Barry didn’t blush or take the bait -- one downside to knowing each other so well and for so long was Barry’s ever-increasing immunity to Hal’s bullshit. “It’s been a week since the funeral. You haven’t said anything about it.” ****

Hal shrugged. “I’m more worried about Jim. He’s taking it hard.” ****

“I’m sure he’s more worried about you,” Barry said mildly. ****

“There’s nothing for him to worry about, or you. I’m fine. I made my peace with how things turned out. There were different rules for Jack and me. We talked for five minutes once a year during Rosh Hashanah and called it a day. And we only did it because Jim put up a fuss if we didn’t. There was no love lost there.” ****

“You don’t mean that.” ****

“I’m sure I do,” Hal said flatly. “I’m also sure that my last words to him were along the lines of ‘Kiss my ass.’ To be fair, he was off on one of his lectures about me being an embarrassing derelict, so I don’t think either one of us had the moral high-ground.” He turned onto his side and sighed. “It is what it is.” ****

Barry didn’t say anything else for a while. Hal shifted, pressing his face into the pillow. He could smell their sweat, along with traces of detergent and the fancy massage oil. ****

“I want to be here for you,” Barry said abruptly, “but I don’t know how to help.” ****

“You’ve always had my back.” ****

“And I always will, but that’s not exactly what I mean. When Darryl passed, you were right there with me at every step. You knew what to say and what to do to make me feel like I wasn’t alone. Maybe I didn’t think to say it then, but it meant so much to me.” ****

“You would have managed.” Frye’s death hadn’t been a shock, after all. It had been a long, slow decline from late-stage lung cancer. Barry had done everything in his power to make the captain’s last months comfortable, arranging for the best hospice care in Central City and visiting regularly. To Hal, Barry’s relationship with Frye was strange -– the man had essentially raised him, but their interactions seemed more professional than paternal, a distant sort of fondness built off of gratitude on Barry’s part and duty on Frye’s -- but that they had cared for each other was indisputable. Barry had done his best by his foster father, following his wishes to the letter for the funeral and the selling of the house. ****

“I would have,” Barry agreed, “but it was much easier because you were there with me.” ****

“I’m glad you came,” Hal said haltingly. “To Jack’s funeral, I mean. It. . . . You made it easier too. Thanks for going. I know you didn’t like him.” ****

The mattress squeaked and dipped, and then he felt Barry's arm wrap around his waist. ****

“I didn't like how he treated you,” he said. “But whatever you two were to each other, whatever terrible things were said, however badly things went at the end, he was important to you once. That made him important to me too.” ****

“I did love him.” The words were ripped out of his throat. “I still did, Barry.” ****

“I’m sure he still loved you too." ****

It was like a dam breaking. Hal didn’t cry. It was sobbing without tears, as if the grief was ricocheting around inside him, too big to escape -– instead it was just a disjointed sort of shaking that left him breathing raggedly against Barry’s chest. ****

Jack was _dead_. Jack, who had taught him how to tie his shoes. Jack, who had helped him with his homework and made him after-school snacks. Jack, who had snuck into his bed with a flashlight and a picture book to read him one more story after bedtime, even though the babysitter had said no. Jack, who had smacked the bottle out of his hand after their mother’s funeral. Jack, who had told him that no one would give a damn when Hal finally killed himself. ****

It was just him and Jim now. ****

“God,” he managed, through the shudders. “God, he’s really gone.” ****

Barry held him tighter. “I’m sorry.” ****

“He wasn’t supposed to die first. He was a lawyer, for fuck’s sake.” He thought of his niece, Jack’s only daughter, so small and serious in her black dress. She’d looked confused when they’d lowered the casket. When Hal had hugged her goodbye after the service, she’d cried like her heart was breaking. “Oh, God, poor Helen. That poor baby, Barry, she must be hurting so bad.” ****

Barry shushed him, his breath hot against Hal’s forehead. “You got through it. I got through it. She will too.” ****

“I need to look after Jim for him –- Jack always took care of Jim, made sure he had enough money and wasn’t behind on his house payments. Jim went to him for advice about the kids. I don’t know anything about raising a kid. I don’t have extra money for house payments. What do I do? I have to look after him.” ****

“Hal,” Barry said softly, “you already do look out for Jim. Sue’s with him right now too, and the kids. It’s eleven at night, and there’s nothing you need to do right now for anyone. Just lay here with me, alright?” He gave Hal’s arm a firm tug, and only then did Hal realize that he’d thrown back the covers and gotten half out of bed, buck-ass nude. ****

“Damn.” He sat down on the edge of the mattress and put his head in his hands. “I’m a mess.” ****

Barry’s hands rubbed up his back. “You’re exhausted. You were in the middle of a full patrol when we called you back -- you never got a chance to recover from that. And something like this is exhausting on its own, let alone when you’ve been bouncing all over the cosmos.” ****

“At the funeral,” Hal began, and then he had to stop for a minute. The thing was, he’d forgiven Jack years ago. But there was a part of him that could never unhear the things Jack said or the hateful way he’d said them -– like someone had gone into his brain and overlaid every good memory of his brother with a film of toxic waste. It was all tainted and poisonous. Perhaps Jack felt that way too. Perhaps it was why neither one of them had been able to move past it. “At the funeral,” he said finally, “do you remember that man who was sitting with Sue and the kids?” ****

It took Barry a minute. “The one with the blue suit and the mustache? I don’t think I spoke to him.” ****

“That’s the DA who ran after Jack stepped down. They’ve been friends since law school. They were partners at a firm for years after college. He’s Helen’s godfather.” Hal cleared his throat. “I shook his hand, thanked him for coming. He didn’t know who I was. He didn’t know that Jack had another brother.” ****

Barry looked like he’d sucked on a lemon. For a second, it seemed like he’d say something, but he only sighed, bunting his head against the curve of Hal’s shoulder. Hal laid back down to hold him, letting himself breathe, willing the tension to leave him as he focused on the sensation of Barry’s body tangled with his. Slowly, the tight, aching knot in his chest began to dissolve. ****

He’d collected plenty of regrets over the years. What was the weight of one more? ****

“There should have been ribbons,” Hal said into the silence of their bedroom. There was a question in Barry’s eyes, so he added, “For the seven days of mourning. We should have torn the ribbons for him.” ****

“I didn’t know Jack was practicing.” ****

“He wasn’t. But Mom was, and Jim is. Sue even converted before they got married. I don’t know if I ever told you that.” Hal took a breath and brushed his hair out of his face. “Jack didn’t believe in God, but he was big on tradition. There should have been a proper _shivah_ , and a, a --- shit, I can’t think of the Hebrew word for it. The prayers. We did it all for Mom. We should have done it for Jack too.” ****

“Did Jim disagree?” Barry asked delicately. ****

“Jim didn’t get a say. Jack's wife arranged everything. We offered to help, but she wanted to do it all – helped keep her distracted, I think. I’m not trying to rag on Janice, I just. . . It was strange. They didn’t even go to that church; there’s no reason it couldn’t have been at a temple. Half of the relatives on our side didn’t get notified that it was happening. All those people I didn’t know, all the stories they told about him that I’d never heard before, it felt like going to a funeral for someone I never met.” ****

“But you went. You dropped everything to come home.” ****

“It doesn’t make sense. Last month I squared off with a giant spore alien that spit acid. You used to fight a talking gorilla on the reg. Yet here we are, safe and sound. He works an office job and dies of a stroke at fifty-one.” ****

“Life is unpredictable,” Barry offered. His eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you didn’t run into any trouble on that patrol.” ****

“Doesn’t count, it didn’t actually burn me,” Hal said. “If we’d both known that his number was up, would we have been able to sit down and have a conversation like a couple of adults? Or would it have made no difference? Maybe he would have banned me from crashing his funeral. I don’t know.” ****

“I don’t think I should weigh in,” Barry said, with an undertone of wryness. ****

And okay, that was fair. Families were a fraught topic. The worst fight that they’d had in all their decades of friendship had been about Hal’s mom. As much as Hal loved him, Barry’s unbending morals could look judgmental in certain lights -- and not insulting people’s moms was an unspoken bro code. But Barry had dug his heels in, insisting that no normal, loving parent would ever disown their own child because of something as ridiculous as a career choice, and Hal had lost his shit. It was no wonder that Barry still tiptoed around the topic twenty years later. “I guess not.” ****

“I understand that you feel like you had an equal part in this. . . this schism, Hal. But I’m always going to defend you first. I can’t be unbiased when it comes to how other people treat you.” He laced their fingers together. “I’m sorry if I pushed, but I was starting to worry. It isn’t like you to be quiet.” ****

“Thanks.” ****

“You’re pleasantly loquacious. It’s one of your charms.” Barry cleared his throat. “I wasn’t trying to kill the mood either, though I realize my timing could have been better. I thought that maybe you needed something more from me, what with you being so interested----” ****

“You’re allowed to say ‘horny,’ Bar. You’re forty-seven.” ****

“--- _interested_ , maybe it was a coping mechanism that wasn’t doing you much good.” ****

Hal rolled his eyes. Sometimes the man said the damndest things. “You thought I was drowning my sorrows in sex.” ****

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Barry pointed out. ****

“You’re psychoanalyzing again. For the record, the only reason I had sex was because I’d been dreaming about that big, fat cock of yours all day.” ****

That finally got the reaction he’d been looking for: it was hard to tell in the dark, but he knew that Barry was red-faced because he always was when he said _‘Hal!'_ in that strangled, vaguely scandalized tone. Hal gripped his hand, chuckling, and curled deeper under the blankets, closer to Barry. They were quiet, and he’d just started to doze when Barry spoke again. ****

“The ribbon,” he said, “do you just cut it, or is there something else you do with it?” ****

“Some people rip it, some people cut it. You say a prayer and then wear it pinned to your clothes afterwards.” ****

Barry nodded thoughtfully. “I could run out and buy some tomorrow morning. How long would we wear it for?” ****

Hal stared at him. ****

“Would you rather I not?” Barry asked. “If it’s a private thing, or only for the faith---” ****

“You don’t have to do that for him,” Hal interrupted tightly. It hurt sometimes, to love Barry this much. How he’d gotten so lucky was one of the greatest mysteries of the multiverse. ****

“I’d be doing it for you.” ****

Hal squeezed his fingers. “I was thinking, tomorrow I'll stop by and check on Janice and Helen. Maybe Helen would like to get out and go somewhere for a little while, just to get out of the house. Maybe the park, or the bowling alley. She loves bowling. You can come if you want."

"I'd like that," Barry said warmly. 

"Barry?” ****

“Yes?” ****

“You are helping. I mean, you’re doing just fine, being here. Thanks.” ****

The last thing Hal felt before he fell asleep was the brush of gentle lips against his cheek.

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I owe somebody an apology – this story is weirdly horny considering that it’s about coping with dysfunctional family relationships in the aftermath of an untimely death. Then again, it’s Hal’s PoV, so naturally it’s going to be horny in some capacity. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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